It was a long time coming, but one that couldn’t have better timing.
Another huge moment in what was a super Black political week was the firing of “the Honorable” Omarosa Manigault, the infamous Trump superfan, who followed him all the way from an NBC setspace“> to the White House.
While most of us never knew exactly what her job description was in the Trump administration, Omarosa’s departure from the White House is the third time that Donald Trump sent Omarosa packing. That is, of course, if you count the two times she was “fired” from The Apprentice.
It should come as no surprise that the TV villain turned wanna-be aide would be let go the day after 98 percent of Black women voted against the pedophile-alleged candidate her now former boss endorsed.
Reports suggest that Omarosa didn’t handle the news well, and that security had to escort her out of the White House.
Some White House staffers claimed the 43-year-old wanted to resign over the Trump administration’s racial missteps, including its response to the white supremacist march in Charlottesville, but it was all just a little too late.
Omarosa, girl, you played yourself, and you got exactly what you deserved.
To be honest, we all knew this was going to happen. I remember when I met Omarosa during the National Association of Black Journalists (NABJ) Convention in New Orleans back in August.
This was during her infamous panel discussion where she tried to act like Black journalists weren’t going to hold her accountable for working for a man who said all kinds of disrespectful things about a community she claimed to have his ear to.
I usually smile in pictures, but this was on some Get Out type-ish where I didn’t want the flash of the camera to take me to the Sunken Place with her:
That time I met Omarosa this summer and couldn’t even crack a smile because I knew she was doomed. pic.twitter.com/cPIyJGrPEb
— Ernest Owens (@MrErnestOwens) December 13, 2017
While others were quick to judge and dismiss Omarosa, as they were definitely entitled to do, I really wanted to at least see, in person, if this woman was as crazy as everyone described her to be.
And she was.
Omarosa was arrogant and played the victim role in what she described as an “ambush” of “unprofessionalism” by my fellow industry peers. And it was in that moment that I asked her straight up “why did you even come in the first place?”
Her answer was: “I was here to talk about the panel discussion, not engage in nasty politics.”
I realized then and there that she was taken from us — her grasp of reality, her awareness, her consciousness, any sign of understanding of the space she was in.
Omarosa’s unapologetic act of high-level buffoonery in the White House wasn’t an accident, but a voluntary choice. She tried what so many before her believed they could overcome and failed.
The writing on the wall was back in September, when General John Kelly cut her off from important Trump staff meetings. And yet she still tried to flex as if she was Trump’s magical token negro; a position that she somehow thought the rest of us wanted but could give a flying flip about.
Omarosa’s highest “achievements” were making headlines for organizing an unauthorized wedding photo shoot at the White House, and picking on Black journalists like April D. Ryan. And let us not forget the debacle of a meeting she assembled between Trump and dozens of HBCU presidents across the country.
None of which amounted to the six-figure salary she pocketed while on the job.
The real shame of it all is that Omarosa actually had the opportunity to do a lot of good for Black America with the access and influence she had in Trump’s White House. But instead she sold her soul.
Let the “rise” and fall of Omarosa be an example of why you should never go against your community for a paycheck and a title. She learned the hard way that no matter the party or policy, to them you’ll always be Black.
If I were Omarosa, I would seek deep sociological therapy, call Oprah, do a tell-all Sunken House redemption tour and throw Trump under the bus along the way. Whatever important tea she has that could help send him out the White House front door may just be enough for her redemption.
Only receipts, edges, and woke apologies can get Black America to take her back. Other than that, she can save the whining and lies to the press for someone else.
I’m rooting for you, girl. Barely.
Ernest Owens is the Editor of Philadelphia magazine’s G Philly. He has written for USA Today, NBC News, BET, HuffPost and several other major publications. Follow him on Facebook, Twitter, or Instagram and ernestowens.com.